


Life as it used to be, as it will never be again

by Louhime



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Based on the film life as we know it, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louhime/pseuds/Louhime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As lifelong friends it was only natural that they would pair off. A boy and a girl growing up together, falling slowly in love and getting the fairy tale ever after that most could only dream of.</p><p> Except for the fact that Effie and Haymitch would rather set their clothes on fire than get together. They grew up watching their best friends fall for each other, get married and have babies. When their friends happily ever after gets violently derailed they find themselves the guardians to two scared little girls. </p><p>How will they ever cope?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The first meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I'm been busy! I hope you'll give it a read and hopefully not want to throw rotten fruit and veg my way afterwards. This will be a long one I hope and I will try to be true to the characters however I can't promise it will be perfect. It will flick between our two darlings shared past and their present. I will make it clear I hope. 
> 
> As always warnings at the bottom and any complaints, comments and kudos go straight to management!! 
> 
> Read on my good fellows and enjoy! 
> 
> Much love Lou.

_“Now Euphemia, you will not sully your clothes during playtime. You hear me? These clothes are not for playing! I do not want any excuses when I come and pick you up, you will be at the gate without a speck of dirt on those clothes or else you will be in big trouble!”_

Her mother’s voice seemed to echo inside of her head, it was as if she were still there standing beside her whispering furiously into her ear. She could never understand why her mother needed to repeat herself, she always behaved. She always followed her mother’s rules. She was far too aware of the repercussions of disobeying her mother’s fastidious rules regarding clothes or etiquette or posture. Her older sister hardly ever visited any more but she could still see when she closed her eyes the vivid purple bruises across the backs of her legs after disobeying their mother yet again.

The playground was full of laughing children, running carefree with their friends before the bell. She straightened her already rod straight spine and smoothed down her lily white designer frock, tracing the tiny embroidery beneath her fingertips to soothe her nerves. It was a terrible habit that her mother despaired of ever fixing her of but she loved to feel the tiny stiches and see the patterns in her head.

A tall man with a head full of hair as white as her dress approached across the grass. He looked gently down at her and then glanced to the clipboard in his hands. She felt the nerves in her stomach relax a little much to her surprise. The man smiled brightly and spoke.

“Euphemia Trinket? Welcome to our primary school, the 12th District Academy. I’m going to be your head teacher, my name’s Mr Abernathy. I hope you enjoy your short time with us here, it’s almost a shame that you’ll be moving on so quickly with our current year 6 to high school after the summer.” His relaxed tone made her even more at ease and something inside her prompted her to speak.

“I am certain that the time will pass pleasantly here. Excuse me Sir, could you please call me Effie? I much prefer it over Euphemia.” She asked.

She didn’t know what possessed her to ask it and was horrified at herself at the impropriety but as soon as she had said it she desperately wanted him to allow her the change. She wanted to carve out something that was just her own in her new school. Asking it made her feel bold and even though she knew her mother would find out and punish her for the informality with a stranger, she strangely couldn’t find the normal fear that would create.

“Aren’t you a proper little miss?” He asked, delighted. “Well since you asked ever so politely I will most definitely call you Effie. Now, Effie, won’t you come with me I’ll show you to your classroom and get you acquainted with your teacher.” He gestured towards the school building just as the bell rung for the first lesson of the day, the children stopped their games and headed towards the open classroom doors. She smoothed her hands over the fabric once more and nodded to herself and followed his lead.

As they walked over to the classroom door she looked at the students around her. Groups of girls or boys all chattering animatedly away as they began the long slog through till lunchtime. In her observation of her new classmates she forgot to focus on what was ahead of her until she slammed into someone.

“OI! BLOODY WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!” A boy’s voice yelled in her ear.

She pulled away from the boy in horror at being so impolite as to walk into someone and opened her mouth to apologise but was beaten to speaking by her teacher.

“Language Mr Abernathy! If I hear that kind of language again I will be having words with your parents!” Mr Abernathy snapped at the boy.

Effie looked between them in shock. She wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. The boy grinned cheekily at the teacher.

“Grandpa, you know they won’t care about a little word like that!” He shot back.

She felt her mouth open at his words. Her teacher rolled his eyes and then glanced towards her.

“Don’t call me that in school please. I’d like to introduce you to this ill-mannered oik, my grandson Haymitch. Haymitch, this is our newest student Effie Trinket and I would like you to apologise now that you’ve tried to walk through her.”

Haymitch cast his glance over her and she felt the distain for her appearance immediately. She knew what he was seeing. Her long blonde hair done up elaborately in braids, her pristine white dress which screamed money and her feet in miniature high heels. She looked every inch her mother’s daughter and was proud to be.

Just as Haymitch was judging her, she looked him over too. Scruffy short blonde hair, an ironed but untucked blue shirt and grass stained shorts and his feet covered in trainers which looked five years past new. Compared to her own ensemble he was dressed practically primitively.

She held out her hand delicately towards him, already cringing inside at the prospect of touching his sweaty hand and smiled sweetly. Her mother’s rigorous training prepared her for uncomfortable meetings.

Chin up. Eyes bright. Smile on.

Haymitch roughly grabbed her hand with his own shook it once. She blinked, shocked at the handshake she wasn’t expecting but kept her smile fixed.

 “Effie Trinket, pleased to make your acquaintance.” She said crisply.

“Sorry about walking into you.” He dutifully parroted.

“Apologies accepted, it was after all an accident.”

She took her hand back and folded them together, clenching her hand into a fist as to not touch the material of her dress with it.

Mr Abernathy sighed a little, clapped his hands and gestured towards the open door in front of them.

“Come along children, otherwise you’re going to be late! And that wouldn’t do, now would it?” He said.

Haymitch snorted and strolled through the door, Effie quickly followed him appalled at the idea of being late on her very first day. After they were both herded through the door Mr Abernathy closed the door firmly behind them.

Effie glanced at the door and then to her dress. She let out a little gasp when she noticed a minute smear of green on her formerly pristine dress, a little bubble of fear cropping up at the prospect of her mother seeing it. Haymitch cast a glance at her when she gasped and saw the grass stain. He frowned in confusion at her apparent horror and ducked into the closest door to them.

Before she could ask to be directed to the nearest toilet to clean the hem Mr Abernathy placed a hand on her shoulder, pushed her beyond the door way and began to walk briskly down the brightly coloured hallway.

“Now I know that we will only have a few months to get to know each other and that you will be leaving with your parents to the Capitol after the summer term,” He paused and looked to her for confirmation to which she nodded. “And that you came from a private school, The Keeper and Escort Institution for Refined Young Ladies. That’s quite a name for a school!”

Effie smiled at him, showing just the right amount of teeth and replied.

“Oh yes, my mother and grandmother attended when they were young and myself and my sister both attended. It is quite the school, the best in the county. I was ever so sad to leave when my father moved us here.”

He smiled compassionately at her, thinking that she was missing her friends. Effie knew her school was the best in the county however she never liked being there but it was what he expected her to say. Amongst her peers she had always been ‘Constance’s little sister’, her sister’s reputation ruining any chances she had of ensuring lasting contacts with her schoolmates. It was a source of embarrassment for her mother and herself that even though she excelled in the subjects she was most definitely excluded from the most important aspect, the elite social life, due to her sister’s antics during her time there.

He stopped by a door with bright yellow flowers painted around the frame. He placed a hand on the door handle and turned to her.

“This is Mrs Sparrow’s classroom. I’m sure that you’ll enjoy yourself, most of our students do. If you have any worries do feel free to ask her and she will be able to help, if not I am always available.”

Effie stared at the bright door in horror. Art. Paint. Charcoal.  At Mr Abernathy’s urging she stepped up to the door, she took a steadying breath and knocked smartly on the door; she heard a little noise of amusement beside her and the door was pulled open by a brightly dressed woman.

The woman smiled brightly at her, knowing eyes lighting on her immediately and she felt her apprehension about the mess fade. It was as if the woman had known what she was fearing and was going to steer her right. Mr Abernathy placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and urged her forwards.

“Mrs Sparrow, this is your newest student, Euphemia Trinket. Well I’d better be off, I hope you settle in nicely Effie and remember if you need anything do just ask.” He reminded her softly and walked off down the corridor, leaving her in the charge of the woman before her.

Mrs Sparrow smiled even brighter and opened the door wide for Effie to pass into the room. She tapped sharply on a paint splattered table cover and the class quickly quietened for her to speak.

Effie found her nerves coming back in full force with all the other children’s attention directly on her. As if on an invisible cue she smiled at her future classmates, perfect and welcoming just as her mother had taught her, her spine straightened and she tried to make her face as pleasant as possible. Once the class had fallen silent Mrs Sparrow began to speak.

“Ladies and gents this is our newest class member, Euphemia Trinket. I want you to make her as welcome as I know you are all capable of doing!” She pointedly looked at a boy sitting with his back to the class doing something with watercolours. “Yes, I mean all of you. Even you Martin.” She spoke with a crisp accent, familiar to Effie as her own but not nearly as severe as her mothers.

Effie wondered for half a heartbeat whether she and Mrs Sparrow came from the same sort of people but when she took in the flowy yellow shirt and the paint splattered jeans and the shiny and copious necklaces Effie couldn’t imagine her sitting down for afternoon tea with anyone like her mother or the society women she had grown up around.

At the mention of his name Martin turned just enough to look at the newcomer, rolled his eyes and turned back to his project. Mrs Sparrow let out an amused huff and spoke under her breath ‘ _little devil_ ’. Effie couldn’t believe how her teacher let the boy get away with being so rude. It was unimaginable to think that this was to be her teacher for the coming term, she recalled the only time she had seen such behaviour at her last school and that ended in the young girl being expelled for disgraceful manners.

Mrs Sparrow half turned to Effie and smiled gently at her.

“I know it’s a bit of a shock coming here after your previous school but you’ll quickly learn that we might not be the most rigorous school nor the strictest but our students are the brightest by far.”

She waved to a girl who sat sketching a flower pot on her table filled to the brim with hyacinths, the vivid purple and blues nearly obscuring her face.

“Iris, can you come her please? I would like to introduce you to Euphemia, she’ll be sitting next to you this term.” Mrs Sparrow called to the girl.

At the mention of her name Iris flicked her gaze to the two of them, Effie noticed how solemn her face was but how curious her eyes were. She gently placed her pad and pencil on her desk before moving to greet her new classmate.

Effie pulled on her most gracious smile and extended her hand towards the other girl, they shook hands slowly contemplating the other.

Effie took in the girl’s powder blue skirt and white t-shirt; she could see that her outfit certainly wasn’t designer but neither was it off the rail. She ran her eye over the hem of the skirt and internally gasped, for sitting all around the hem in subtly shining embroidery were horses. Intricate horses running round the fabric through fields of perfectly formed flowers, Effie couldn’t help but want to know who designed it for her as it was a rival to and even surpassed some of her own clothes.

“Hey, Euphemia. I hope you’ll like it here.” Iris spoke quietly. 

“Good afternoon Iris. I do think I’ll enjoy my time here, thank you.”

Mrs Sparrow urged them to their seats and worked her way round the class to her desk. Effie followed the quiet girl to her table and took her seat.

“Do you mind if I see what you’re drawing?” Effie asked.

Iris silently passed her the drawing pad and awaited her opinion. Effie took the pad and felt herself smile at the image on the paper, drawn in careful lines were the flowers on the table. Beautifully shaded and nearly real enough to touch but what caught her attention most were the giggling fairies resting on the petals or flitting around the plant. Each creature had its own individual style, some in ball gowns others in combat boots and leather jackets. Effie couldn’t imagine being able to draw such beautiful images with just a pencil and her imagination. Her mother always said that imagination was a poor use of her time, taking away from being present in the here and now and Effie always followed her mother’s edicts.

She handed back the paper with slight reverence being extra careful not to smudge any of the lines she had admired. Turning to Iris she smiled properly, naturally.

“It’s beautiful, you’re so talented!”

“Thank you, Euphemia.”

At her words Iris smiled brightly back at her and the ice was broken. The two girls began talking like there was no tomorrow, covering likes and dislikes, dreams and fears. By the time the lunch bell rang they were fast friends.

As they were leaving for lunch, Effie stopped the other girl with a touch to her arm.

“Please, you simply must call me Effie. I do so hate being called Euphemia; I was called that after my grandmother. It’s an awful name!” Effie exclaimed.

“Well I think it suits you, but Effie does roll easier off the tongue!” Iris replied.

“You know Iris, I think you and I are going to be friends forever.”

“You know what, Effie, I think so too! Forever and ever!”

The girls giggled and left to play in the afternoon sunshine.


	2. So she goes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Effie leads a labouring Iris to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou here! I hope you enjoy this chapter, in all its short glory!

 “Iris! Come on! If we don’t get in the car soon you’re going to be having this baby on your living room floor!” Effie called through the currently empty front door.

Iris’s head popped round the door frame and glared at her long-time friend. Effie merely smiled sweetly and held her hand out for her overnight bag, which Iris gladly dumped into her gasp. As soon as the bag was handed over Iris seemed to crumple in on herself, her empty hand going to clench around the door frame. The contraction gripped her body so rapidly that Effie could see the sweat crop up on her forehead and her skin pale with the pain. She loved her friend dearly and found it ever so exciting to be in the drama of it all but knew without a doubt that motherhood was not for her. Too many sticky messes and not nearly enough sleep.

“Effie, when you have children I am so going to do this to you, being peppy and bright! It’s inhuman that women have babies! Why can’t blokes do this? I can’t do this, please Effie please make it stop!” Iris growled through her teeth.

 She was trying to take long breaths to get through the pain but would get caught up in another wave of pain. Effie chucked the bag into the back seat not caring whether it landed on the seat or on the toys which littered the floor, she mentally frowned at the brightly coloured toys thinking they were another reason not to bother with children being ugly and unfashionable plastic nightmares.

Turning on her boutique turquoise heel she marched back towards Iris who had dealt with the worst of the contraction and had straightened up looking pale still.  Effie caught up Iris around her generous waist and guided her quickly towards the car soothing her hand across her tense back muscles.

“Do what? Drive me to the hospital? Make sure my lovely but forgetful husband doesn’t forget the ice cream? Or your ultrasounds? Keep a certain oaf in line during my child’s christening?” Effie replied light heartedly. She pushed a little harder on Iris’s back when she felt the muscles tense even more and helped her to get settled in the front seat. She slid a hand around Iris’s cheek and made the labouring woman look at her. When they locked eyes she spoke.

“Iris it’s all going to be fine. I promise. You will get through this and I just know that before this day is over our worlds will have changed completely once again. You will get to cuddle this darling baby and even Haymitch will shed a tear! Even though I doubt that he possesses a heart.” Effie snorted.

Iris gave her a pained smile and then buckled herself in.  As soon as she was in and buckled up Effie raced round to the driver’s side and slid in, switching on the ignition and sliding into first in a well-practiced manoeuvre. She could hear the straining breaths of her dearest friend in the passenger seat and couldn’t help but be worried for her. A quick glance confirmed what she could hear and it was that Iris was not doing well, even in her inexpert opinion, she looked dangerously pale and was sweating profusely. Effie grit her teeth tightly and pressed firmly on the accelerator and watched as the speedo climbed higher and higher reaching rather illegal speeds.

The twenty-minute, should have been forty, drive to the maternity ward of the hospital seemed to Effie to last forever each time Iris crumpled in her seat around her belly, each time her nails dug so hard into the plastic armrest she started to peel the paint off it dragged the passing seconds into years.

As soon as Effie pulled the car up to the doors of the maternity ward she killed the engine and leapt out of the car with a surefootedness which was remarkable given the height on her heels. She pulled open the door and Iris was leaning into her arms, sweaty palms gripping her designer white jacket hard. It was a passing thought, a concern for the delicate fabric and the nature of sweat on such a fabric but Effie brushed it off with little more than a twitch of her fingers. Her friends health and her baby were vastly more important than a few layers of easily replaceable fabric.

She pulled Iris upright and determinedly marched towards the automatic doors of the reception. The moment their feet crossed the threshold a blue scrubbed midwife was sliding neatly beneath Iris’s other arm and directing them towards a waiting wheelchair.

“Afternoon ladies, I’m Laura and I think it’s time we all took a quick trip over to assessment don’t you? She spoke quickly.

Effie couldn’t have agreed more, too breathless to speak. She instead sucked in a large breath and gladly helped Iris into her chair. The midwife took control of the chair and began guiding them both into the ward.

With half a glance over her shoulder the midwife made one last comment before she wheeled Iris through the door to assessment.

“I’m not supposed to say this but I reckon that baby will be here any minute so you might want to shove a boot up daddy’s arse, yeah?”

Effie couldn’t stop the snort escaping her nose, internally cringing in left over snobbishness. A lady shouldn’t snort. A lady shouldn’t be friends with lower class people. A lady shouldn’t…

She closed her eyes, took in a sharp, almost painful breath and cleared the rhetoric from her mind with each second she passed the breath out again.

Without taking her eyes off of the door her dearest friend in the whole world had disappeared behind, she dialled the daddy in questions number and waited for him to pick up.

_Ring…_

_Ring…_

_Ring..._

_Ring…_

_Ring…_


	3. And he follows.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haymitch and Martin return home.

Haymitch resisted the urge to fiddle with the radio yet again. Silence wasn’t something he was used to in any aspect of his life; home was filled with squabbling siblings and shrieking children, work filled with constant talking, plans and presentations. Martin sat in the driver’s seat not uttering a sound. He didn’t like it; his best friend was never that quiet. It was as if his mind wasn’t in the car with his body. 

“Mate, do you mind actually looking as if you’re seeing the road instead of whatever daydream has your attention?” 

At his mild mannered question, said mate didn’t even twitch. Haymitch sighed. He could win a bet with his guess at what had his friend’s attention so taken. His very lovely, very pregnant wife. 

He knew that Iris’s due date was several days behind her and that the baby was imminent but couldn’t help but want his friend’s attention on the here and now so to avoid dying in a spectacular fireball. Haymitch shuffled his feet, feeling the plastic rustle around the bouquet he had between them and questioned why on earth he had volunteered himself to join Martin’s quest to find a bouquet beautiful enough for his lovely wife. He appreciated his friends whimsical approach to life, where most men would be figuring out some sort of savings plan for their next child Martin had spent weeks painting a beautiful forest complete with a wonderland of mythical creatures and fairy tales on the nursery walls. It was probably his best work but not exactly the most practical approach to a new baby. 

Haymitch expected their search for the perfect flowers to be a quick trip to the local florist and back however he was still stuck in the car three hours later with six different florists work sitting between his thighs. Verdant blooms and arching greenery and nearly two hundred pounds. It was a miracle that Martin ever got anything serious done, let alone fathered two children and had a successful career as a painter. 

His mind returned to the beautiful landscape on the new baby’s walls. His friend really was talented, bringing to life stories and pictures all in a few deft brush strokes. He really had lucked out with talented folk as his nearest friends. Martin, a successful painter. Iris, the author of a small but growing series of children’s books. Even Effie, the woman he almost couldn’t stand to be near with her upper class accent and noisy impractical heels had set up her own boutique. He had seen her work, each item made to her exacting specifications following her own designs, most of it made by her own hands. It was one of the few things he could admit he liked about the woman but couldn’t stand the other ninety percent of her.

He couldn’t really place the exact thing about her which he hated the most. Whether it was the fact that she wouldn’t know common sense if it bit her on the arse or the fact that nothing seemed to penetrate the veneer of posh nonsense. It could be the fact that she also threw herself at stupid men. 

Haymitch reached over to poke his friend in the arm. Martin smiled at him ruefully, caught his gaze with a fond look and returned to the road looking more like he was actually seeing the other traffic. He sighed internally at the fact that he wasn’t going to be in a fiery metal ball in the next ten seconds at least whilst Martin was refocused. 

“Do you think she’ll like them?” Martin asked, sounding suddenly unsure. 

Haymitch snorted and looked out the window seeing the trees nipping past. 

“Like them?” He reached a finger out to the soft petals, feeling their softness against his skin “Martin she’ll bloody love them. This is Iris, she loves every gift and she loves flowers. She’ll go bananas for them.” 

Then he added under his breath “They’re beautiful Martin.” 

It was his friends turn to snort. 

“Under that crusty exterior of bastard there is actually a heart you know; you could try revealing it a little more often. It might make your girlfriends stay a little longer.” He drawled.

That comment earnt him a solid punch to the arm. Martin simply laughed. They drove in companionable silence for a few more miles; the trees and fields gradually becoming familiar again. Haymitch reached out to fiddle with the radio, crackly static and snippets of rubbish pop music, trying to find his favourite country station. The traffic began to pick up the closer they got to the town; the road beginning to buzz with the sound of honks and tyres. The sound of civilisation. Haymitch instantly began to miss the quiet of the countryside, his head beginning to fill with the unwanted static that came from being in a town. 

He glanced at his watch knowing full well that his friend would be anxious to get home to his darling wife and reunite with her as if they hadn’t seen one another in decades rather than a few hours. He found it eternally amusing that his best friend was the sappiest creature in the world. Iris had warned them that if they hadn’t returned by tea time that they would be reheating it for themselves. Haymitch hated missing her meals. 

“Come on Martin, if you cut across here we can cut the drive down at least twenty minutes.” Martin continued to stare out of the windscreen. Haymitch scrambled for a thought that would rile his friend into taking the shortcut even with his particularities with keeping to set routes “The flowers would look better if we arrived back faster. Iris wouldn’t want to receive flowers that were droopy would she?” He questioned. 

His answer was the indicator clicking into life as they turned onto the shortcut. 

With a sudden wrench of metal, the car was sent hurling over itself, again and again. Haymitch clung desperately to the door handle and the seatbelt hoping they would secure him in the churning kaleidoscope of smashed glass and dancing lights. His head thwacked into the window with a meaty crunch. His eyes flickered closed over the sight of his best friend’s wedding ring glinting in the flashing orange light. He couldn’t even muster the curiosity to wonder why it was on the ceiling without the rest of his friend’s hand. And faintly, ever so faintly he could hear a phone ring. 

And ring.

And ring. 

And ring.


	4. Scarlett, Crimson, Ruby, Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Effie and Iris are struggling through labour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,   
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's short and sweet but I wanted to get something out to you before my life turns on its head and I get so tired I cant think let alone write. As per usual warnings at the bottom of the page. 
> 
> Much love Lou

“Haymitch, you waste of human skin! Pick up your damn phone and do it now! I have been ringing you for the past twenty minutes and if you do not pick up the phone and listen to me I will have to kill you when you eventually show up! And that is a promise Mr Abernathy that I will not forget to fulfil!” Effie whispered venomously down the phone. She stabbed the end call button and pressed a hand to her forehead. The pained screams echoing down the hallway were giving her migraine nasty painful spikes each time they hit octaves only dogs should be able to hear. Her mother’s ingrained training surged forth and she took a few calming breaths. She was calm and in charge; a hostess is always in charge and never forced to panic. Another scream pitched high enough to break glass pierced through her, in an unmistakeable and horribly familiar voice. The fear that had been lurking in the periphery of her mind surged forwards to plant itself, squat and ugly, centre stage. Her already racing heart beat faster and she turned smartly on her heel and barged into the delivery room. 

She immediately wished she hadn’t. She wished she still stood in the hallway with little knowledge of what was happening behind the door. She wished she were still shouting down the phone at Haymitch’s voicemail, feeling useful. She knew that this solidified her desire to never ruin her life and her body with children. Clutching her phone tightly in her sweaty hand she stepped into the room. 

Iris lay half across her bed, as white as the sheets used to be. She clung desperately to the sheets in fists clenched beyond pale. The midwives buzzed around her; a gentle encouragement, a soft hand. Iris’s body bowed with the next contraction and she bit down onto the pillow; not nearly muting the screech of agony. Effie couldn’t move herself forwards. She stood petrified but not because of her friend in pain. She had been there for the birth of her first child and knew that her friend didn’t hold back. She stood petrified by the sheer amount of blood staining the room. The back of Iris’s gown was bright with it, her pale legs streaked and the floor and midwives splattered. There was blood covering everything. Her friend let lose another howl trailing off into a sob. She surged forwards suddenly released and collapsed to her knees on the opposite side of the bed. She covered her friend’s hands and for the first time in her life didn’t know what to say next. There was no training for this in her. Iris looked up at the touch and up close she appeared even worse. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat and her eyes dancing with an almost deranged fear. She released the bedclothes and latched onto her hands, short nails scraping furrows into delicate flesh. 

“Effie, promise me that you’ll be there no matter what. Please! Effie please…!” Each word was bitten out through clenched teeth and she tried to curl into herself as a contraction stole her last word. 

Effie swallowed back her own tears and clung to her just as desperately. She couldn’t find the words to reassure her, to promise her a thing. Her mother would have branded her an irreparable failure. Iris dropped her head to the bed and howled, a broken pained thing. Effie felt words climb up her throat. 

“It’s going to be fine, Iris. We’re in the very best place and they’re doing all they can.” 

She didn’t believe her own words and when she caught the glances exchanged between the midwives behind Iris; she knew that they were worried. 

“Okay Iris, we’re going to change the plan. I know you wanted a natural birth but baby is being a stubborn little thing and isn’t coming as fast as we’d like. Baby is in a little bit of distress so we’re gonna have to call the doctors in but it’s looking like you’re going to have a c-section.” said Laura, aiming for calm. 

The other midwife pressed a few buttons on the wall trying to keep her professional mask in place but Effie could see through her easily. Her mother would be horrified at their lack of decorum and letting the masses see their inner feelings. She would have hauled both of them out of the room, ever so politely, and spat venomous reprimands until she felt they were satisfactorily cowed. Effie knew what that kind of scolding felt like and had learnt quickly. 

Iris tugged on her wrist and Effie focussed back on her flagging friend. Her mother’s face slipped back into memory. 

“W...Whatever happens promise me. Promise me that you’ll keep an eye on Martin. He….oh god…he can forget so much if you don’t remind him.” She pleaded. 

“You can look after him yourself and your daughter and your baby! Iris you can’t say things like that!” She pleaded in return.

The midwives began to urge Iris onto the bed proper, regardless of the bloodstains. She curled onto her side and Effie pulled close to her and ran a sweaty and shaking hand across her cheek. She was struggling to watch her friend so desperate and lost. She swallowed back her tears again and opened her mouth to speak when the midwives began pulling her away. 

“I need you to let go sweetheart. We need to move her and get her prepped for surgery.” Laura whispered into her ear.

Suddenly obedient, she let go. The midwives scrambled and wheeled her dearest friend away with barely more than a backward glance. Effie stood in the horribly silent delivery room and wished for the screams again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains some graphic descriptions of a labour room which I am sure is entirely fictitious. I haven't had a child or laboured so I cant really draw from experience. There is also some harsh language.   
>  I think that is it but as always if you spot something you want me to add them feel free to inform me of it!

**Author's Note:**

> This will have new warnings added at each chapter so please bare with me and be nice. 
> 
> This contains mentions of probable child abuse, not a direct mention but still. 
> 
> Its a proper introductory chapter so its going to be slow, it will have more action later!


End file.
